


4th grade is hard.

by Johns_Burrtle



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blackmail, Child Abuse, Elementary School, Forced Orgasm, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Rape, Tags Are Hard, Teacher-Student Relationship, Threesome - F/F/M, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 22:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13304874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johns_Burrtle/pseuds/Johns_Burrtle
Summary: Two sisters get caught trying to be cool by smoking with teenagers by their teachers. With his blackmail found, he manipulates the girls into doing sexual interactions where they have no consent. This doesn't involve brainwashing but you can believe that if you want!





	4th grade is hard.

Amber (9)  
Justice (9)  
Unnamed teacher (in his 30s)

Lolicon ahead. Rape ahead. Abuse ahead.

This one is a short one. I did not put much detail into it, I will make better fanfics next time. This is really ambitious righting with a lot of plot holes the reader has to fill in. How did the girls get by- etc? I wrote this story from a warped 3rd person omniscient. An overview of everyone, yet we no idea what they are thinking. Close to first person yet told from my perspective outside of the story. If there is a term for that I do not know it.

Amber and Justice stood with their cigarettes in their hands as the teenagers ran away from them. The teacher only stared, clutching his video camera from the late 90s. The girls said not a word, for a reason of which I am unaware. They stared. He stared back. There minds were probable dead, caught in a web of time. A web of horrible mysteries and a web of horrible questions. A web of cigarettes. The same cigarettes that were dropped to the ground in a moment of silence and fear taht everyone there felt except the teacher. He stared. They stared back. Minds were probably racing, talking, communicating between each other. A horrible yet magnificent duo of thoughtful that tied loosely with string.

"Come with me, girls." 

And with that sentence that the wind seemed to wisp away slowly, creating a drawn out and taunting echo. With that taunting echo, the girls followed the teacher's over into the building that they had been oh so laughing at. A school of peace and memory, yet they were being young little rebels. It stung them greatly, perhaps. Perhaps they understood what they did wrong and maybe even not. The teacher didn't seem aware. Alone in the classroom while everyone was in the kitchen, enjoying their meal. They enjoyed the lack of air. Lack of sound. Lack of smell. Lack or everything. Lack. As they stared, as they watched away at the ticking tock and the sweat beads on the girls' necks. They stared and they watched the ticking slow. Hands from the teacher brough the three closer, and they shared warmth on that cold day. Even thoughts they knew they were wrong, they seemed warm. They seemed happy.

Before soon, however, happiness was all a lie. The hands that brought the three closer, took off their clothes. They stared in shock. The hands tickled down their body and another hand was introduced. 50 hands pulling the girls, however only 2 were there. The girls fell down as the third hand was revealed closer and stuck into their bodies. Wails and cries filled the dark room as the third hand continued to use its magic juices to fill the girls will horrible thoughts. Their minds were most likely mush as the three hands taunted them, glazing over their dirty parts. However their faces were dull and understanding. They took their punishment, however not with glee. They stared at the ticking clock. They started at the door which was under lock. They stared at the horrible-- hands as they glided. Turning their bodies to much use, those hands. Tears glided but the cries has stopped. They were too weak to cry. They watched the old 90s film camera. The video of them smoking still playing, drowned out over the animalistic cries of HIM. HE watched them suffer and he enjoyed every wail.

 

Why so hurt? Why so in pain?


End file.
